CONFESSIONS
by JusticiaBee
Summary: Born from my need to know what became of Gio - and my need to express what I think of S3 Betty.


CONFESSIONS

There was panting from the other side of the wall. What sounded like organizing of shopping bags. A person trying to find a comfortable position. This was doubtlessly a woman. The silence after she had found a way to sit was her putting on lipstick. He was new here, but he knew women – oh, yes, he knew women. He stretched his own body without making a sound. He was comfortable. He allowed her the time she needed to prepare. Then he pulled the curtain aside.

"Father, I have sinned," the woman said before he was able to greet her. She was in a hurry to pour out her heart. "It's like … uhm…very long since I have been here…"

"To church, my child?" he asked in a strictly business like voice. He lowered it – they said it made him sound older and people would speak more freely to him, even the elderly ones who face to face looked at him with slightly raised brows, thinking "what can this _child _do for me?"

"Oh, no, I've been to church!" the woman assured him. "I go to church – like often!"

He smiled. He only saw a lot of dark hair when throwing a glance at her through the holes of the wall. Even without seeing her, he could totally picture her: Another of these not so young anymore women who were all too eager to please, who destroyed their own lives trying to become who they thought everybody else wanted to see. He would have liked to pat her shoulder, hug her, say she was good enough, that she didn't have to try so hard. But he wasn't allowed to touch.

"When was your last confession?" he asked her before she rattled on about how much she loved the church and got entangled in even more lies. The good Lord could see through her already. Of course he didn't pull her down saying that – but thoughts were toll free.

"Urhm – ehrm – last year?" she suggested and immediately corrected herself, "More like three years ago. Make it four. Say five!"

He nodded and smiled, thinking where he was five years ago. "It's never too late, my child," he said in that calm voice.

"It isn't?" She sounded relieved. "That's what I told my sister and she said I was so wrong, and that my soul was doomed…"'

"No soul is ever doomed if he – she, turns back to the Lord…"

"Oh, I want to!" she breathed.

He could feel her eagerness, how she moved closer to the wall, and somehow he moved a few inches from his wall, from her – it was pure instinct.

"I'm a horrible, horrible person, "she breathed.

He couldn't decide whether she was honest or make believe.

"I'm so envious," she at last found a way to start. "I'm envious of my sister. She is so beautiful. I have always wanted to be like her, but my bones are so much heavier than hers, and she has this sweet face and it's like always been easy for her as she has always had these curves, you know. She eats like I do, but my body is heavier set – it just is, I don't care what these experts say, some just have those curves in their genes, and then some of us never can get them. And my sister, she has this bright smile, while I like didn't even have straight teeth. Oh, I have suffered for my smile! I wore braces for almost five years. Can you imagine that? I hated those braces! That's probably a sin too, huh?"

"Eh – no, my child," he said, "that's not a sin. But envying your sister is!"

He narrowed his eyes and tried to see better through that wall – without allowing her to see him.

"I knew it would be," she continued, "that's why I didn't go to my regular church – it's OK that I didn't go to my regular church? I just didn't want to tell these horrible things to anybody there – they all know me, right? And I could never look them in their eyes if they knew what a horrible person I am. Well, have been, anyway. You know – I'm not a bad person…"

Father Giovanni closed his eyes. He folded his hands. He recognized her.

"Lord, give me strength!" his lips formed, not a sound passing those.

"I'm really _not _a bad person," she continued. "But sometimes life has been unfair, and people have sort of been made to believe I'm someone that I – well, that I'm not, if you get my point. Like when I tell Hil… - when I tell my sister the way she dresses makes people – well, men, think she's easy to get, and that's why she always attracts the wrong men. I'm not really envious of her then – I just want to help her, but it comes out like something else… so, I was envious when she had Archie – he was a good man, decent – not someone in Obama's staff like, but he was good for her – and I envied her for having found someone who loved her like that – as, well, as I never sort of have found that man…" She pulled her breath.

"I don't see your sin here, child," he said, clenching his fists. He hadn't thought she still was able to make him so angry, so downright furious.

"I'm not a bad person," she repeated – it was like a mantra to her. "I really want to find love, I really, really want to find that man who's out there for me – or who isn't. I don't know. I have tried… Oh, I have had sex without being married – I know that is a sin, but everybody does it, you know everybody does it. It's not like I'm addicted to sex or anything. It's not like I have had a lot of guys, and I have been in relationship with them all – it's not a big number, it's less than five – I don't have to tell the exact number, do I? Well, I won't. God knows already, doesn't he? Of course he does. I don't have to tell you. You're just like the middle man, right?"

"The Lord knows, my child," Father Giovanni said.

"I haven't really had that many boyfriends," she said. "Hil… my sis has had way more – and she doesn't even feel awkward about it while it's like my soul is tormented by the thought… She says she has loved them all – but how can you? I haven't loved them all. You know – I thought I did at the time, but I think I was so desperate to find love, true love, that I made myself believe I loved a couple of them… Like Walter – poor Walter… he was all I could get, I figured, because I wasn't a looker. I didn't particularly like his looks, but I needed someone…"

"Here we go," he thought and rolled his eyes. That might be a sin – but he could live with that. Humbleness didn't come easily to him, but where there was a sin, there was also forgiveness.

She talked about her men. About all her men. About every guy she had ever laid eyes on.

"My first huge, big, greatest love was of course Henry…"

Bla bla bla…

"…but I have been able to forgive Henry, and I really tried, you know. I really tried. And Matt – sweet, lovely Matt…"

Matt? He straightened up, was alert. Who for .…..s sake was Matt? This new life of his lacked some words, he knew, he knew. He struggled expressing himself when emotions boiled and he got passionate. He struggled, because he was a hot blooded person.

The next half hour she told him all about Matt and his shortcomings, and about how she fell for the exterior.

"… oh, that was so shallow of me, because I liked all his money and the power and what that wealth made him – what it made me…"

More Matt. More Betty sins re Matt.

Bla bla bla…

"And there was this wonderful guy," she started – he could hear her smiling, and unwillingly he smiled too. "He was absolutely adorable. First I liked him because he had potential. He sang like a god… well, like a superstar. He could have become one – but he lacked a muse... and I couldn't be that for him. Jesse. Oh, sweet Jesse!"

Jesse? Who was Jesse?

She told him. An aspiring artist she had told herself she fancied. Someone she had wanted to shine – so she could steal some of his light. Amazingly enough she saw that – she saw why she so desperately had wanted this guy to love her. In glimpses she saw she needed attention and drama – that she still craved to be seen, but even after all these years she hadn't fully grasped the truth. She still didn't know herself.

"I faked love with Jesse," Betty said. "But he's OK now – we're like connected on MySpace. He writes wonderful music still. To other women. He still hasn't found his muse. I sometimes wonder if I could have been that – had I tried harder… but I just didn't love him, I guess…"

"You show regret, my child," he said. "That is good."

"It is, isn't it?" She lit up. He could hear that. How could she stay 18 still? "There are other sins as well," she easily continued.

The next quarter he listened to her summing up her life of no real sins at all. Her steps were light, almost dancing when she left. The penalty he'd given her not weighing heavy at all on those colorful clad shoulders. She was wearing heels these days. Father Giovanni didn't give in for temptation. He didn't need to see what she looked like today.

She hadn't mentioned him with a word. She didn't even rate him among Walter and that sweet Jesse. She didn't consider she'd done him wrong. She had no emotions for him, for what they've had. She simply didn't remember him. It was like he had never existed.

This was the woman he had given up all his life for!

This was the woman, the love he'd celebrated with years of prayers and celibacy.

Father Giovanni tore off his stiff collar and walked into the pulsating world.

A new Gio was born.


End file.
